Oi. I was dragging my but all over the mall yesterday trying to find some outfits for senior pictures. My dad and I went to like 20 stores before we found a black skirt and I was about to pull some secret agent move just to get out of there.

Anyway...

They-Call-Me-Orange: SWAT TEAM! Step away from the chicken and no one will get hurt!

dplover: "Cross over to the dark side", you know when I first heard that I immediately thought of Star Wars. Coincidence? I think not!

Phantomfandannyluver: Go action movies!

Faith's melody: I'm so glad you like it!

ktwesterna: Yeah! Another fan!

amylovestakuya: O.O I'm glad you like it.

PhantomAlchemists: We should all get Danny plushies and like hug them and chant, "Let Danny Go! Let Danny GO!"

OneWhoWalksWithPigeons: No, YOU Rock!

DragonGirl: Yeah! Here you go, Read on!

shinigami5218: Yeah! You like it. I'm so happy!

kitsune07: MWHAHAHAHAHAHA! My evil laugh. Cliffies are evil—but necessary to the story. Lol

Disclaimer: Don't own Danny Phantom

Chapter VIII

There were so many things to sort through. Sam sighed in frustration as she pulled another book off the high shelve and flipped through it, pensively. Every stupid book in this stupid library was either in a different language or about ancient history having nothing to do with the staff and that made the task of finding more information about the staff harder find.

"Ahh! This is taking to long!" Sam yelled throwing down the book in her hands. A few hushes and shh's were sent her way but Sam was beyond caring. She looked to the table where Johnny and Kitty were sitting at and sighed again. How many unsuccessful hours passed while she was in this library? How were Jazz and Tucker doing? Were they in danger?

Sam laughed to herself. Yeah, right. They were probably either in some diner waiting for her to come back with good news or sleeping. Sam's thoughts faltered. Everything was weighing on her shoulders, and here she was, no closer to the answers she sought. Sam breathed and gazed up at the ceiling, trying to calm herself.

Zaira Bastion was even more impressive on the inside, she found. Its cathedral ceiling sported high cedar beams and rusted steal, which crisscrossed into an intricate pattern. The whole bastion, Sam discovered, was owned by Zaira (hence the name); a declined looking ghost whose gray hair and round glasses gave her the appearance of a seasoned librarian. But that's when the resemblance to a sweet librarian stopped.

"If you are planning to continue to destroy my library, then I will throw you out." Sam sighed and turned; her hands came up apologetically. Zaira stood there with her arms crossed over her chest.

"No, no. That's ok," Sam said trying to smile, but it quickly faded and she bent down to pick up the book she dropped. "I'm just…. frustrated, that's all."

"That's no reason to damage irreplaceable books," Zaira told her. The ghost's eyes sparkled in hidden humor. "If I assist you, will you stop vandalizing my books?"

"Sure, Zaira." Sam opened the book in her hand. "I can't find anything on the staff that controls ghosts. I've looked in the human history category, then I went to the myths and legends; but we're still looking through that because it's in a different language. Right now I was flipping through ghost history hoping to find something…."

"Let's go back to the table your friends are at and look this over, Miss Sam" Zaira suggested. "This staff that you are looking for, I am sure we will find it."

"Yeah, I hope so." Sam yawned the covered her mouth, embarrassed. "Sorry."

They reached the table and Kitty looked up from the book in her hands, rubbing her eyes and smiling tiredly.

"Find anything other than books with ancient languages?" She asked. "I can't really translate this very well. I used to but that was before I meet Johnny."

Sam yawned again. "It's ok. I'm just happy that you're helping."

"Why don't you take a break, Sam," Kitty said after seeing Sam yawn for the third time.

"Yeah, we've made some progress," Johnny called from his seat far away from the books. He was not a reader. "We almost got through half of all the books in here."

"That's not progress!" Sam moaned sitting down heavily and covering her face with her hands. "Finding something about the staff is progress. I can't rest until I discover something that could tell me why Danny couldn't break the spell on the train--even with my help!"

"Calm down, doll," Johnny said. "Why down you sit down or something?"

"Are you deaf? We haven't made any progress!" More shh's and a couple of "quiet, you stupid girl" flew at her.

"You're disturbing the peace and wasting more time arguing about it," Zaira put in. "So why don't you sit over here with your book and start reading." The chair that she gestured to was an oversized love seat with pillows decorating it and a navy blue blanket draped over the side. "You will be more comfortable in it."

Sam was seeing where this was going but made no objections. Her willpower was strong enough to keep her awake. Sam settled in, arranging the pillows comfortably underneath her then draped the blanket over her legs.

An odd sensation washed over Sam when she tried to stand in the foggy haze. Her awareness was dampened by this vapor to the point where she could barely focus on her surroundings and so she didn't notice that she was not alone.

Sam finally broke away from the murkiness that held her to the ground and lurched forward, gradually and inelegantly. It was like walking through mud, treacherous and slow; Sam progressively making her way through it. It was tiring, but somehow Sam knew she had to continue on.

Anomalous flashes, like clips from a large TV screen, flickered across the smog. Sam's eyes widen at what she saw. Jazz and Tucker, they were running from something; something that appeared to be her, or at least the first-person view screen.

"Jazz! Tucker!" Sam cried as she saw Tucker hit the ground, hard. Jazz stopped to help him, and the image she was watching seemed to zoom in on her face as she let out a blood churning scream. "Oh, my gosh…"

"Who are you?"

The voice came from her left. Sam blinked then shook her head. No, this wasn't possible. This wasn't happening. She was just dreaming, this isn't real.

"I said, who are you? What are you doing here?" That voice. She knew that voice. She had heard it in her unwanted--yet pleasant--dreams; whenever she smiled, whenever she despaired, whenever she was mad or giddy, that voice was there, soothing and sweet.

"Danny…"

His form appeared; striding confidently towards her with his crimson eyes glowing in the dark miasma. In here Danny's white locks shimmered; light from the images was reflected in his hair. He looked like the same old Danny Phantom that Sam remembered (except for the red eyes), but something in his voice; a slight variation of deeper tones, the addition of clip notes, a sort of malice that laced his voice indicated that there was much more of a change than Sam initially guessed.

"Danny, it's me. Sam."

Before, just her name along would crack some of the barrier that surrounding his mind; making him hesitate, flinch in recollection. But he just stood there, not batting an eye at her name. "I don't know you."

What? Don't know… Sam shook her head. 'Get a grip, Sam,' she scolded. 'He just doesn't remember. He's been away for so long.'

"Danny," she hesitantly, unsure of how to proceed. "I'm Sam. One of your best friends. Tucker and I, we go to school together, we still at the same lunch table. Please you've got to remember."

"I don't," he said, monotonously. "I have no friends…" That phrase again. It cut through Sam like a knife. "Now, get out."

"But Danny… What happened? You used to remember me, when you were under the control of the staff."

Danny came closer until she could clearly see his whole stature. His clothes had been changed, black was now everywhere. His gloves, his jerkin, even the shirt underneath. There was a peculiar broach shaped like a bat attached to his jerkin collar and its eyes glowed red, just like Danny's.

The ghost touched it nonchalantly and explained, "This broach enhances the power of the staff that Freak Show wields."

"How can you be so calm about it!"

Danny didn't answer as suddenly the picture that Sam saw earlier came into view. Jazz and Tucker laid, sprawled against the ground, cowering from them.

"That's you, isn't it?" Sam asked, realization dawned on her, "I'm somehow in your mind. Your psyche." Danny was doing all of this, and he was only watching this time. He wasn't trying to fight it. Somehow along the way something went terribly wrong.

"Danny, you have to stop. That is your sister and Tucker."

"People who I don't know, nor care for."

Sam gasped. This wasn't the Danny she knew, this monster wasn't even close to the considerate friend she loved. Sam blinked. Did she just say love? But somehow, standing in this fog with him beside her, Sam knew, she loved him. Even if he was temporally indifferent, even if he was trying to kill Tucker and Jazz, she loved him.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and started to shake him. "Please, I know you're in there, Danny. Listen to me. I can help you." Danny just stared at her, neither in acceptance or denial. He was numb to all feelings.

He shoved her aside. "You're getting on my nerves."

"I can help you, Danny," she said scrambling around to make him face her once again. "I can, and I'll show you." Before Sam could stop herself to think twice, her lips carefully brushed against his.